


Symbiosis

by stateofintegrity



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:34:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28812006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stateofintegrity/pseuds/stateofintegrity
Summary: Max likes nature documentaries. From them, he finds a new word to characterize his relationship with his Major.
Relationships: Maxwell Klinger/Charles Emerson Winchester III
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Symbiosis

“The lord of the jungle greets the day. Even screened in by leaves and foli-whatever - green stuff- we can see he is sleek and strong.”

Charles doesn’t know whether to laugh or scream as he stretches, blanket-tangled, so he settles for, “No more wildlife documentaries for you.”

This is, of course, an idle threat. 

For one, Maxwell is a treat as he gazes, wide-eyed, at animals he’s never heard of, animals he will ask Charles to take him to see at the zoo or aquarium or, in mounted form, at the natural history museum. 

For two, Max is utterly delighted (unto audibly trilling) by the accents of the (typically British) narrators who echo Charles’ pronunciation. The Major has tried to explain that this merely a result of education, not some form of linguistic sorcery, siren-powers instilled in speech rather than song, but Max doesn’t believe him. 

“This fearsome predator makes fearsome noises, warning any wandering slices of coffee cake to seek cover.”

Charles tries to hold in his laughter, but his belly shakes and the bed shakes, and he scolds his lover for baking a dessert breakfast he doesn’t need. 

“I hafta use up the figs,” Max says, evading a swiping hand. 

Figs are a different matter. Charles loves them and Maxwell does something to them that enables them to soak up the mingled flavors of almond and brown sugar - and as they bake they become jam-like - a Christmas-like sweetness that is subtle and warm. 

“Do ‘lords of the jungle’ eat figs?”

Completely straight-faced, Max replies, “They eat whatever they want.” 

Rolling his eyes, Charles untangles himself as Max continues an (admittedly flattering) narration. “What am I meant to be in this film you are directing?”

“A tiger. They’re my favorite.” 

“Mmm. I think I may be entirely too, ah,  _ rounded _ for a hunting cat. Their bellies ought not to sway.”

Quick as a mongoose, Max dips in to kiss his stomach good morning. “Jus’ means you’re a  _ good _ tiger, baby. Lotsa good hunts.” 

_ I think it means I chose a good mate... _ “And you, my darling? If you were to be transformed into something - what would you be?”

“With this nose? Maybe an anteater.”

Charles knows he is being teased for a cruel jab he once lobbed Max’s way in Korea. “Pet...”

Max smiles to show he’s kidding. “Truth is, I wouldn’t care what I was, baby - long as I was with you. We’re like those animals that live together and help each other out.”

“Symbiotic,” Charles supplies the word, charmed by the notion.

“Yeah.” His face scrunches. “‘Cept I’m not sure what you get outta it, exactly.”

Charles frames his face, dark curls dusting over his fingers. “Oh, darling- before I had you... do you remember the feature we watched about creatures that overwinter? They lower the rate of their hearts and stay still - almost as if they have died. Before you, I was trapped in such a state.” 

“Hmmm. I like wakin’ you up.”  _ In all kinda a ways. _ “Warming you up.” 

“Yes - I have noticed that you enjoy being on hand.”

“‘S not my fault you’re pretty ta watch when your clothes are everywhere an’ you stretch out, light on the places where your robe comes open... I wanna live in those spots - where there’s just a light flash of skin, where I know it’s warm.”

Charles blushes. “I can hardly begrudge you watching if it makes such a poet out of you!”

Max smiles, but shakes his head. “Wish I knew the kinda words poets got - or the people who write what people say on the stage or the movie screen. I’d give all the best ones ta you - and they still wouldn’t even come close to how you look - in the morning, when your eyes aren’t even open and you belong just to me.”

“I always belong to you alone.”

“Yeah, but out in the world other people look you up and down. I don’t blame ‘em. If I saw something that was as much of a miracle as a tiger walkin’ around, I’d look. But they imagine how it’d be to walk beside you, how pretty you’d be with them. And if they don’t just look right through me, they know I’m not good enough to be walking around with you.” 

Charles blinks, fumbling for words to express the unique and nausea-inducing sense that the world has flipped not upside down - but inside out. “Maxwell, darling, is it possible that you harbor the notion that you are somehow less than stunning? When people look at us, it is your figure that turns their heads. If they look to me, I suspect they assume that I must have wealth, indeed, to have so young and ravishing a girl on my arm.” 

Max puzzles over this a minute. “So if you think I’m beautiful and I think you’re beautiful... is that symbiotic, too?” 

“It means the tw-two of you are a m-matched pair of idiots who are letting the coffee cake get cold!” Honoria says, sweetly, through the door. 

“You left the icing off, didn’t you?” Charles asks.

“You don’t like it when it soaks in.”

“You are too good to me, pet. But the two of us have forgotten that in our little jungle world, the true ruler is my sister!” 

“Leopards do kill more people than tigers, Major baby. Probably  _ way _ more than anteaters.”

Charles kisses him and turns to dress. “Is that what she is? We had best make haste then. Hungry leopards are nothing to trifle with.”

Laughing, they descend to breakfast- one of nature’s stranger pairs, perhaps, but a very happy one.

End! 

  
  



End file.
